unknown cruelty
by LoreLorelei
Summary: I always knew he was cruel. You get to know someone's character if you grow up with them. In the case of my brother Raoul, it has been obvious since his early childhood when he enjoyed to torture small animals. It has only become worse over the years. But to be honest: I never realised just how cruel he could be until she came into my life. My angelic Christine...
1. Chapter one

I always knew he was cruel. You get to know someone's character if you grow up with them. In the case of my brother, it has been obvious since his early childhood when he enjoyed to torture small animals. It has only become worse over the years. The chances of him not becoming cruel were small to say the least. He ought to thank our mother for that. If it hadn't been for our father, I would have never known his cruelty, or anyone's cruelty to be precise. When I was given to my mother after my birth, I was not what she had been dreaming of. In fact, she screamed and dropped me: it was a miracle that I survived, though I used to think that surviving was the most horrible thing that could happen to me. All of that changed on the moment I got to know _her_. But let's get back to what I was saying. My father decided that they would keep me, even when my mother pleaded to have me killed. That was probably the most merciful thing she could have done for me in my entire life. He did not allow me to live because he loved me. Oh no! He could rival my brother in cruelty. He allowed it for one reason only: my mother had been trying to give him an heir to his title for more than ten years, and until I came, had failed miserably. The chances that there would be a second child were almost non-existing and since it was absolutely impossible to have a bastard inherit the domain, I grew up as the recognised son of my parents. My brother Raoul was born after I reached the age of 6, and that was the moment when my parents truly started to hate me and didn't try to hide it anymore.

Raoul grew up with loving parents who told him every day of his life that he should have been the one to inherit everything and that my existence was a cruel joke made by fate. From the moment he could walk, he tried to make my life as unpleasant as possible. He was never punished or reprimanded. I could see how disappointed they were by the fact that I kept on breathing, never once becoming ill or having an accident. I used to try to make it up to them by excelling in every art that could be learned: fighting, horseback riding, archery, drawing, painting, architecture and most importantly: music. I think that the only time when my parents were able to stand me was while I was playing the violin or the piano. Of course, their affection would disappear as soon as the music stopped, but I lived for those moments and I fought for every single shred of affection that I was able to get. My instruments were also one of the only things that remained safe from my brother's hands. He knew how expensive they were and destroying them would mean destroying something "that was supposed to be his". But my true gift of God was my voice. I know that it is able to make the angels weep. _She_ was the one who helped me to reach this conclusion. Nevertheless, I never sang for my parents or my brother, the were not worth it.

After my father died, mother became even more spiteful and I was grateful that she did not live much longer. However, the disadvantage was unfortunate. I was left alone in one house with my brother and you can only try to avoid each other for so long (but try I did). I usually just leave him be and make sure that he has enough of money so he will not bother me. One day, he bought a magnificent white stallion. I found the poor animal bleeding severely while he was still using the whip on it's already bloody back. That was the first time that I hit him, though there would be more to follow in the future. Apparently, César, that is how I named him, did not allow Raoul to ride him, something I can absolutely not blame him for, and Raoul unleashed all of his wrath and cruelty upon the poor creature. After I hit Raoul, I paid him the amount of money back which he had spent to buy the horse, and started to heal what would later become my best friend. I have enjoyed the look of envy on Raoul's face for years and I know that he has tried several times to ride César again, only to come back with a dissatisfied look on his face and a few very noticeable bruises. I am the only one who is César allows upon his back.

But you, dear listener, still don't know why all of this happened to me. It is because of my face. I am not ugly, I am hideous! I am living death! Oh, you don't understand? Think of a skull that is able to talk and eat and drink with eyes that shine like yellow flames in the darkness of the night. And my body? Little more that a loathsome skeleton! Yes, Living Corpse indeed…

**Author notes: I do not own anything. All credits to Gaston Leroux. Also: this is my first fic, so I hope you will not be to harsh and English is not my native language. I would appreciate it immensely if you will tell me when you see some mistakes. Thank you very much and enjoy the story! **


	2. Chapter two

Unknown cruelty chapter 2

**My sweet, dear readers: I am truly sorry that I made you wait for such a long time before updating, but I had no time to do so during my exams, which I passed by the way. I am especially sorry for those of you who were so kind as to review my story. I promise to try my best to update a lot sooner now and to apologise, I have made this chapter a lot longer than the first one. I hope you all enjoy it!**

**P.S.: I don't own anything.**

**Now onwards! **

Christine's POV

I was staring at the closed door before me and had been doing so for several long minutes. It seemed as if it was looming over me. I lifted my hand to knock, but dropped it again and sighed deeply. I asked myself why I was there, had I become this desperate? _Yes you have. What are your other options? It's not as if you have not tried everything else. _I sighed again and stopped struggling with my thoughts. I was desperate, I had eaten almost nothing in the last days and had lost even more weight. If I continued like this, I would resemble a skeleton soon. My papa would not have wanted me to starve and he always told me to be strong.

Everything that could go wrong, had gone wrong. I used the last money that we had earned by playing music in taverns and on the street to give him a decent burial. After that, there was no money left and I started to visit every wealthy household in hopes of finding a job as a maid, but I was turned away every time. I had never thought that I would get so many doors slammed in my face. However, the last household had been different: the housekeeper was friendly and even though she explained to me that there was no place for me, she gave me the address of this grand manor. It came with a warning about the rumours that surrounded the place. The cruelty of the Comte de Prisracque and the fact that no one had ever actually seen him were a frequent subject of the silent whispering among the inhabitants of his comté. This was my last hope, I had delayed coming here until I no longer had any other options. I had no idea what I would do if they turned me away. Now that my papa was gone, I had no one to protect me from the harsh cruelties of the world and I was too proud to beg. Furthermore, I would rather die than become a prostitute.

I sighed, mustered all the courage that remained and finally knocked on the door. I listened desperately for the sound of approaching footsteps and, after hearing none, prepared myself to knock a second time, when the door opened so suddenly that I stumbled backwards. In the door opening stood a tall woman with a severe air, completely dressed in black. She stared at me, not saying anything, which made me feel as if I was much smaller. "B-Bonjour Madame," I said, "j'aimerais savoir si c'est possible pour moi de travailler dans votre ménage, s'il-vous-plaît. Je ferai tous et je suis bosseuse.1" I looked at her with a hopeful expression on my face, that was crushed as soon as I saw her emotionless face. "S'il-vous-plaît," I whispered, my hands fidgeting. "Je suis désolée, mais ce n'est pas possible, car…2", she started, but then she suddenly stopped and tilted her head ever so slightly, her eyes leaving my face, as if she was listening to something that only she could hear. Afterwards, she nodded her head once. Her eyes returned to my face and after studying me for a few more minutes that felt like ages, she finally spoke again, be it with resignation: "Very well then, if you would follow me…" She turned her back at me, strode away, never once looking if I was following.

I don't know what was more present, confusion or a feeling of relieved happiness. After a few moments of standing there, completely dumbfounded, I rushed to follow her retreating form. The door was closed with a slam and I jumped as it resounded in the enormous hall. It seemed to me as if there could not have been a more beautiful place in the world. The hall was decorated with elegant crystal chandeliers that I loved immediately, but I reminded myself that that love would be short-lived and that it would vanish as soon as I would have to clean them for the first time. After walking for a while, I had the illusion that the manor was endless, the rooms seeming even larger by the use of strategically placed mirrors. Eventually, we finally reached the kitchens, where she turned to me. "While you work here, you may address me as Madame Giry. You will now get the chance to eat something and then Meg will show you to your room. Once you are there, you will take a much needed bath and receive your uniform. I will inform you of your duties early in the morning. Don't be late." She turned her back to me once again and left me in the enormous and (to my delight) very warm kitchen. My cheeks were red with embarrassment after her remark about the bath.

As soon as she left, a blushing, round, red-headed woman rushed towards me and enveloped me in a strong hug. "Don't be afraid now, dearie! She ain't as bad as she looks. I am Clémaine, the cook of this place. Now don't keep standing there! Come sit by the fire and I'll get you some hot stew and fresh bread. We need to get some flesh on those bones, we do. There you go sweetheart!" For the first time in months, I felt a real smile tugging at my face. Maybe this whole arrangement would turn out even better than I had hoped. I was seated at a small wooden table next to the fire and it did not take long before Clémaine returned with a large bowl filled with steaming stew and a large chunk of the softest bread that I had eaten in my whole life. "Well dearie," she said after putting the bowl in front of me and placing her hands on her hips, "don't let it go cold. There is a lot more if you want. What's your name, darling?" Between several bites I answered "Christine. This is the best stew that I have eaten in my whole life." At this she laughed heartily, her blue eyes sparkling with mirth. "If you say so my dear! And that's a very beautiful name, dear. One of my sisters had the same name. Died as a baby though, the poor thing, but let's not talk about that now, heh. How old are you?" "I'm seventeen, but I'll turn eighteen next winter." She studied me with an open expression on her face and said that she had thought that I was a lot younger, but that it was nothing that a few extra pounds couldn't cure and asked if I wanted another bowl with stew. However, I turned her offer down and explained that I wasn't used to eating a lot anymore. "Well, I will certainly change that before the month is out", she stated and left me after giving me a motherly squeeze in the shoulder.

With my stomach filled and the heath of the fire warming my thin body, I soon started to nod off, only to be awakened by the most energetic person I had ever seen. "Hello! I am Meg and Maman asked me, well actually ordered me, to get you and show you your room and I already have a bath prepared and I am so happy to meet you and we will be great friends and perhaps we will work together and that would be great and I hope Maman didn't scare you and are you ready to go? What's your name by the way?" During her speech, my eyes had widened. I had never heard anyone speak so fast in my whole life and her whole demeanour reminded me of a young puppy. She looked like a younger, more spontaneous version of her mother, with shining black hair and warm, sparkling brown eyes. I cleared my throat, "I am Christine and I am ready to go." "Great!", she all but squealed and bounced away, "Follow me!"

She led me through the maze of corridors and rooms to a small but clean bathroom, where a tub with hot water awaited my arrival. I thought that she would leave me to take my bath, but she remained standing there. I sent her some meaningful looks and hoped that she would understand. "Oh, you, well, ehm, I'll, you know… I'll bring your uniform when you're ready. The soap is over there and I put the towel next to the tub. See you!", and she left with a swirl of her gown. I took off my tattered and filthy dress and sank into the hot water. I never wanted to come out again. Seconds later I was scrubbing every inch of my body with the sweet smelling soap. Nothing excels the feeling of being able to wash your hair when it's been a long time. I soaked for a while and then left the welcoming heath of the water. I dried myself of with the towel and waited for Meg to return.

When she did, she was not carrying my uniform like I had come to expect, but a long nightshift. "It's already quite late and I thought that you might be tired, so I brought you one of my nightshifts. You can use it until you have some of your own. I put the uniform on the trunk at your bed. Is that okay?" I nodded and, after I had put on her nightdress, followed her to my room. It was quite small, but to me, it was heaven on earth. It had been so long since there had been a place to call my own. Once Meg was done explaining to me where everything was, she startled me with a fierce hug and mumbled: "I'll come to wake you tomorrow morning and should there be anything you need, I sleep in the room next door. You know, I am really happy that you are here. It's been so long since there was another girl of my age." I thanked her and wished her a good night. She closed the door softly and I slid between the sheets of my new bed. Before my eyes closed, I could only think one thing: _I am finally home._

**I hope you enjoyed it! So, what are your thoughts on Christine?**

**With all my love,**

**LoreLorelei**

1 G-good day Madame, I would like to know if it is possible for me to work in your household, please. I would do anything and I am a hard worker.

2 I am sorry, but that is not possible, because…


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